Clutch
by X23 Maximoff
Summary: What Raizo originally intends to be an act of vigilantism takes a turn for the worse, and one girl's mere existence is the cause of many people's issues. How to get out of this sticky situation...Chapter 2: enter everyone's favorite ninja, see him dom.
1. Chapter 1

Hey y'all! XM here. So, it's been a really long time since I've played the fanfiction game, but I've recently acquired some free time (aka I'm on holiday) and some inspiration (aka the beautiful man in _Ninja Assassin_). The combination of these two things resulted in this. I've never written in first person before, but it seems befitting of where I want the story to go right now and will probably change later. I'm hoping this won't be the typical Raizo-meets-random-also-Asian-chick-and-somehow-finds-a-heart-and-soul story, but y'all are the only ones who can tell me that. Anyway...I hope you enjoy this!

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It had all started with a wedding.

Or rather, it all started while I was at a wedding. My best friend's wedding, in fact. Fun day, right? Ah yes, it's always great fun to stand in between your best friend's little sister and the groom's sister that is almost obligatorily included, sweltering in the summer heat in an aqua dress that's too short for your taste and in heels that are much too high to be practical. We all stood there, the gentle scent of the bouquets saturating the humid air until I could practically taste them, waiting patiently for the moment when the couple had finally finished with the whole "vows" thing and were ready to move this party indoors to the beauty known as central air conditioning. Until then, I had no choice but to deal with the sun beating down on my soul, and focus all my energy on willing myself not to sweat. I really want to be mad at Marissa for putting me through this torture, but one look at her face as she gazes at Claude and whatever negative feelings I have float off into the thick summer air.

I can't really hear what they're saying over the buzz of the heat in my ears, but I don't need to. I see Marissa's smile spreading as wide as it can go, and Claude's grin the biggest I've ever seen on him. She places the ring on his finger; he puts one on hers. They face the officient for a moment before turning back to each other. Claude places his hands on either side of her face, his long fingers just gracing her fiery red hair as he leans in and gives her the single sweetest kiss I've ever witnessed in my life. And even though I want to be bitter that my best friend is married and I'm not, and that she's making me deal with this heat in a country I've never been to and be amongst people that I don't know at all, I can't. Because they're just too dang cute.

The quartet strikes up again, and the two of them lead the way back down the aisle, happiness trailing in their wake. I follow Marissa's sister, awkwardly linking arms with my assigned groomsman (whom, might I add, I am taller than) as I proceed to pretend I know how to walk in these shoes. As we are leaving, the sun finally dips below the horizon, and I take a deep breath of relief as I realize that this means the world will finally begin to cool down. I notice that, in my eagerness to get to air conditioning, my strides have been a bit too long for Shorty next to me to keep up. I immediately slow down, feeling bad for the guy. We finally reach the end, separating as if stung. Marissa instantaneously descends upon me, pulling me towards the photographer.

"Picture time!" she sings, practically skidding to a halt and latching on to me in the Classic Picture Hug that we have been using for four years now. The photographer snaps a quick one before pulling the rest of the wedding party in, insisting we take photo after photo after photo. I realize that these pictures will immortalize the best day of their lives, but is there any reason we _still have to be outside_?

It seems like hours have passed, but the twilight sky tells me that it has been, tops, half an hour. We are finally released to the reception, and I make an effort to powerwalk ahead of the group and ensure that everything is in order. Marissa's sister may have been the official maid of honor, but there was an unspoken fact that I handled most everything of the maid-of-honor nature. Her sister loved attention a little too much in order to do things properly. This is why I have to powerwalk in the Shoes of Death in order to organize everything while Jenna has linked arms with Marissa, trying to pull her attention from Claude. Good ol' Claude is handling it like a champ, a true smile plastered on his face as his hand in Marissa's sways from side to side as they walk. I want to laugh, as it actually looks as if Jenna is literally trying to pull Marissa away from Claude, but I hold it in. My strides lengthen into the typical Late For 8 A.M. Lab pace, and I easily beat the rest of the group by five minutes. Five minutes is all I need, making sure the cake has arrived and in the right place, the food is set out properly, the champagne for toasting has been set in ice, and that the DJ has arrived and set up properly, playlist in hand. I alert him to the couple's incoming arrival, then walk back to the door in order to await them. In the last couple moments I have before they roll in, I notice a few flowers out of place in the decorations. Quick hands realign them to perfection, and I have to allow a little smile. I've always had a weakness for flowers. I'm just beginning to wonder where-

"Oh, Kella, it's beautiful!" Marissa gushes from the entrance hall as the rest of the wedding party disembarks into the reception room.

"Yes, well done, Kella." Claude says, his French accent coming through. His smile is massive, but I know it's not because of my decorating skills.

"Please, you two are the beautiful ones." I say, submitting to giving each of them a kiss on the cheek. I signal the DJ to announce the couple. "Now, go be the stars of the party."

Marissa grasps my hand for a moment, a grateful look upon her happy face, before allowing Claude to pull them into the room after the announcement. A wave of greeting goes through the hall as everyone rushes at once to greet the bride and groom. I lean against the doorframe, watching the two and feeling as if my little birds have left the nest. One last sigh of content, and I silently excuse myself to the bathroom, knowing that I won't be missed for a while. The bathroom is blissfully quiet, the heavy wood door shutting out most of the noise from the party. I carefully perch against the sink, relieving some of the pressure on my feet, and hold up my hair in an effort to get a breeze going over my neck. I curse whatever genes I have that makes it too easy for me to get hot, keeping my thick black hair up with one hand and attempting to fan wherever I can with the other. The bathroom is cooler than any other area I've been in for the past two hours, but it still takes an unreasonably long amount of time before I feel like I'm not about to melt. I let my hair go, allowing it to hang down my back again, but immediately regret this decision and pull it over one shoulder instead. I check my makeup in the mirror, trying not to cringe at the way it's been smudged to borderline Cheap Hooker look. A quick fix, and I'm ready to go back into the throws of the wedding. As soon as I reach for the handle, however, the door unexpectedly (and quickly) opens, startling me quite a bit. I (loudly) let out what my father would deem an "unladylike" word, clutching my racing heart.

"Jeez, jumpy much?" Jenna asks, perking an eyebrow at me.

"Sorry, just wasn't expecting that." I say, taking a deep breath to lower my heart rate. Jenna cuts off any thoughts or questions by grabbing my wrist and pulling me out of the bathroom with much more force than a person that small should be allowed to exert.

"Your speech is coming up. In, like, 10 seconds." she explains as she continues to pull me back to the reception hall, making me do that awkward run that girls have to do when they're wearing heels. Of course, she's exaggerating - it's her speech that's coming up in 10 seconds, not mine - but I follow along anyway, because Hell will freeze over before I allow anything to mess up this wedding. We arrive just as Marissa's father finishes his speech, handing the microphone to the appeared-out-of-nowhere Jenna. Jenna's moved to tears during her speech, talking about how she's losing her sister, but if she had to lose her to anyone she'd prefer it be Claude, but that he needs to not be selfish with her because she needs her sister and blah blah blah.

My own speech is probably not as heartfelt as it should be, but I know we both prefer it that way. I tell a quick and relatively funny anecdote about our college days, about how they're over now, but I'm so glad that she's entering this next phase in her life with a great man by her side. Et cetera. Et cetera. A couple of speeches follow mine, but I'm not paying attention to them. Instead, I'm watching the happy couple - the way Claude has his arm around her, slowly rubbing her upper arm with his knuckles. The gesture is so natural and subtle that he almost looks as if he doesn't realize he's doing it. Marissa's positively beaming, squeezing Claude's knee every time someone cracks a joke at her now-husband's expense. I believe it's the best man who sends the two of them into their first dance. Michael Buble sings softly as they sway, and I take this opportunity to find a seat at a nearby empty table. The slab of confection in front of me makes me realize that I missed the cutting of the cake, and I find that I'm quite disappointed by this. But hey, that's what I get for hiding in a bathroom and trying not to have a heat stroke.

The father-daughter dance was a delight. I've always like Marissa's dad - he's one of those people who can only be described as jovial - and he certainly puts on a show. If he's giving his daughter away to some "random Frenchman" (his words, not mine), then he's going to have a good time doing it. Claude's dance with his mother is sweet, a little more sentimental. Claude's mother is very prim and proper, with steely gray hair pulled back in a bun and the best posture I've ever seen. But her smile is so wide that all the severity of her poise is outshone. The party is in full swing now, with most of the attendants out on the dance floor. Marissa breaks free at one point, almost stumbling out of the crowd as she spots me and makes her way over. She is still, somehow, maintaining that massive smile on her face.

"Dance with me." she says, grabbing my hands and attempting to pull me up. I firmly hold my ground...meaning my chair.

"Riss, you know I don't dance." I say, attempting to be stern. But that smile is just so contagious...

She pouts. "One dance? There's some guys out there you might like." she says this with a wink and a bit of a shimmy.

"The only guys who like Asian girls are Asian guys. And even then they don't like me cause I'm a fake Asian." I say, finally conceding and getting up.

"Are you saying you're a fake Asian cause you're actually sort of tall or because you didn't grow up in Asia?" she asks, her hand in a vice grip as if I might try and escape.

"Both." I respond as the song changes to a salsa one. "Is this why you wanted me to dance?"

"What can I say, Claude just can't salsa like you can." she says with a wink. Of course, it's our own little joke. We were both in a ballroom dancing club and, being single, just chose each other as partners. It was actually through that club that Marissa met Claude, who was quite a fantastic dancer. If we were to compare our salsa dancing skills to actual salsa, his would be the high-end kind with all the fresh vegetables and gentle seasonings that made you think of summer afternoons in Mexico, whereas mine would be the cheap eighty-nine cent deal you got at Wal-Mart. But we go through the practiced steps with as much precision as we can muster, just like we did those few years ago. The song ends, and I bow to Marissa as she curtsies, laughing the whole time.

"Mind if I cut in?" Claude asks respectfully, offering me a warm smile as he gestures to his now-wife.

"Of course, Claude," I say, unable to not smile back. "take her away." He smiles again, sweeping Marissa back onto the floor as a waltz begins. Only Marissa would be waltzing at her wedding...

"Hello there." a male voice suddenly interrupts my musing. I turn to him, trying not to look too startled. Before me stands one of the guys that was on Claude's handball team - Baker, I believe his name is. We've only met once, but it was enough for him to eternally creep me out.

"I'm Baker." he says, holding out a hand to me. Whew, sometimes I'm so good it hurts. Baker would normally be a couple inches taller than me, but in these shoes I've got a solid inch on him.

"Kella." I respond, making the handshake as quick as possible.

"Kelly?" he asks, quirking his head to the side like a confused puppy.

"No, Kella. Easy mistake." I say, giving a tight lipped smile at the confusion.

"Right." he says, taking a swig of his glass of champagne. It's probably not his first, and it's definitely not his last. "So, how would you like to dance?" he asks, placing the empty glass on a server tray as a guy with one strolls by.

"Ah, that's very sweet of you," I tell him, mind whirring to find a reasonable excuse as to why I don't want to dance with him. "but-"

"Oh, come on, Kelly." he says, with an unnecessary arm sweep in the general direction of the dance floor.

"Really, thank you, but-" I begin to excuse myself again when I suddenly feel a hand gently take mine.

"She's with me." comes a different male voice. I whip my head back around, my eyes meeting those of a man I've never met before. But if he wants to take me away from creepy Baker, I'm all for his existence.

"Oh, sorry, dude." Baker says, tipping his imaginary hat at us and walking away.

"Care for a dance?" my savior says, still holding my hand. His English is proper, but by his accent I can tell that it definitely isn't his first language. He's definitely Asian, but I can't tell exactly where he's from. I also can't deny he's a pretty attractive guy, and he just got me out of a bit of a sticky situation, so I can't help but agree.

"Sure." I reply, allowing him to lead me to the dance floor. The waltz is a little more difficult in these shoes (and without Marissa as a partner), but he leads effortlessly. I can feel the muscles under his slate gray dress shirt, and it is most certainly not a disappointing feeling. He moves with a very fluid grace, and I find myself feeling quite clumsy in comparison.

"My name is Kella, by the way." I say before an awkward silence can settle in.

"Nice to officially meet you, Kella." he says slowly, as if he has to make sure each word is correct before he says it. "My name is Raizo."

"Nice to meet you, Raizo." I say with a smile. "Are you a friend of Claude's? Or Marissa's family?"

"Neither, actually." he replies, more matter-of-factly than anything. I perk an eyebrow.

"Wedding crasher, eh?" I ask pointedly. He doesn't respond for a moment, instead pulling me closer so that his mouth is right next to my ear.

"Your life is in danger." he whispers. I jerk back, but continue the dance with him. There's no need to call attention to the situation if it's just some guy creeping a wedding.

"And you're here to save me?" I ask, giving him the best look of disbelief I can. He gives a short nod. I give a humorless laugh and almost find myself wishing for the return of Baker. "Yea, I bet you say that to a ton of girls. Is this the only wedding you've been to tonight? Or just the first?"

"You do not believe me." he states, making an expression that implies that I have just made his life a little more difficult.

"I believe you're a bit of a creeper who's looking for a lay." I say honestly. He looks confused, and I realize that the language barrier has deflected my pointed comment, even if it wasn't the most stinging. Luckily, the song ends, and I have an excuse to let go and step away from him.

"Do me a favor then," he says, catching my wrist before I can turn away. "and keep your lights on tonight."

"What?" I ask, but he simply turns away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Another hand pulls me away.

"Who was that?" Marissa asks, her eyes wide in excitement.

"Wedding crasher. Want me to get him out of here?" I ask, turning back to spot the guy. However, he's disappeared without a trace and I can't locate him anywhere.

"'Get him out of here'? More like get him in your hotel room! He was stunning!" she says, a little too energized.

"Ok, let's get rid of this." I say, pulling the champagne glass from her hand and placing it on another conveniently passing tray. "Marissa, you're married now." I talk to her as if speaking to a small child, both my hands on her shoulders. She waves them away.

"Not stunning for me, stunning for you!" she exclaims.

"You're only saying that cause he's Asian."

"And he was taller than you! Even with those shoes!" she says emphatically, not denying what I had said. Some sort of comment about racism begins to form in my head, but its production is interrupted by the arrival of Jenna.

"Marissa! Come on, this is our favorite song!" she says, pulling her sister back towards the dance floor with a little too much of a whine in her voice. I remind myself that there is no drinking age in France like there is in America, so the 17-year-old has technically broken no laws. However, me and my twenty-three-year-old self are perfectly legal in both countries as I grab a glass of champagne, downing it in one go. I normally avoid alcohol, but I find myself justifying this one glass with my need to wash away the remnants of my encounter with Creepy Raizo.

"Foul temptress." I mutter to myself, both about the champagne and Raizo. Marissa was right, he was attractive - if you ignored his recently attained Creeper Status. The rest of the night goes off without a hitch, and I only have to encounter Baker once more the entire time. However, he's so far gone by the time this happens, he doesn't even remember me, let alone Raizo. It's midnight before we can get the guests to leave, and half past one before I'm satisfied that enough has been cleaned up that I can leave.

"One of these days, Kella, you're going to have to stop being so OCD." I mutter to myself as I almost limp into my hotel room. There's no moon out, so the room seems darker than usual. The effects of the champagne have long worn off, but I'm wondering if there's residual effects, cause it seems colder than usual. I then notice that a window has been left open, and the surprisingly chilly night draft is sweeping through the room. I don't remember leaving it open, but it's very possible that a maid opened it in my absence in order to freshen up the room. Who knows.

_Do me a favor, then, and keep your lights on tonight._

Raizo's return to me, unbidden. I had almost forgotten about that guy. I wonder if he asked me to leave the lights on so that he could find my room easier and go for round two of Creep on Kella.

_Your life is in danger._

Oh right, that. I don't want to believe him. I don't want to think about it. But fatigue and apparently some residual tipsy-ness result in a bit of paranoia, and I can't stop myself from crossing the room in a couple long strides and flipping the main light on. I whip around to face the open room, but nothing seems out of place or unusal. I take a couple steps into the open space of the living room of the suite and glance into the other areas of the place, but nothing meets my eyes but emptiness. I shake my head, mentally chiding myself for allowing some random guy crashing my best friend's wedding to get me scared over nothing.

As I lean down and begin to unfasten one of my shoes, that's when the lights go out.

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Well, that was that! I hope you enjoyed it! Drop me a line and let me know what you think.

Also, if anyone is curious about the author (as I know you are all dying to know about the way my mind ticks) or wanting to find some new music suggestions, I have a few songs that I listen to as I write each chapter. Let me know if you want to know them!

Happy New Year!

~XM


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to the two reviewers I got, and to everyone who took the time to read! Y'all are awesome - thanks for humoring me! Notice that the whole "first person" thing is now over. I've given up on it, it's not my favorite. With that said...now on to chapter 2!

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As soon as the lights cut out, Kella knew she was in trouble. The silence was absolutely deafening, but she could practically feel others in the room. She briefly wondered if this was what people who saw ghosts felt like all the time, the fleeting thought quickly interrupted as the dim room seemed to explode with movement. Kella had no idea what was going on, but she could hear the strikes as steel glinted off steel, as well as the sickening squelch that body parts made as they were sliced into. She could feel the blood splatter over her, and tried not to gag as she curled into a ball and tried to make as small a target as she could. Clearly someone in here was on her side, because everyone else was dying instead of her.

This is what Kella didn't-slash-couldn't see. Raizo, knowing that assassin would be waiting for their target, had hidden himself in her room as soon as he realized she wasn't going to believe him. There was only one ninja stationed in the room - apparently they didn't consider a young woman a difficult target. His worry, however, wasn't the one ninja in the room. It was the three on the roof, waiting for their brother. He was surprised when Kella had actually listened to him and turned the lights on, but of course this only lasted for a moment. He heard the tell-tale crackling that came right before a light bulb was surged and busted, immediately taking that moment to leap into action.

The other assassin hadn't been expecting him, but assassins were trained to adapt to surprises. Before Raizo could even make his first attack, three shuriken were whistling through the air, aimed right for his chest. They were easily disposed of with a quick swing of his kusarigama, but the man coming at him with two short swords blazing would be a bit more of a challenge. The other ninja made a downward swing with his right hand, the blade singing as it cut through the air. Raizo blocked it with the chain, quickly wrapping it around the sword to disable it. He quickly adjusted as the man slashed horizontally with his left hand, also catching the sword in the chain. The other ninja pulled his swords free of their hold just as Raizo landed a strong kick on his chest. The man quickly regained his composure, ducking out of the way as the knife on the chain flew past his ear. However, he was not fast enough when Raizo suddenly jerked it back like a fishing rod, the knife slashing the man above the shoulder. A brief cry of pain was cut off midway as the knife was sent out again, this time aiming for the jugular. He ducked underneath it, sending one sword up and allowing the chain to wrap around it before plunging the sword into the old wooden floor. He dodged a thrown shuriken, leaping towards Raizo with expert speed. He slashed horizontally again, and while Raizo was able to catch most of the blow with the chain, he still had to allow the blade to bite into his forearm. Blood spurted forth, but Raizo ignored it, reaching and grabbing the arm holding the sword, breaking the wrist with a quick twist. The other man promptly pulled it back, lashing out with his other hand, which was now brandishing a knife. Raizo dodged the stab, landing a punch in the man's side and trying not to smirk as he heard a couple of ribs crack. He went for another attack, but the man flipped to the other side of the room, giving a meaningful glance towards Kella, who was crouched low and covering her head. Without a second thought, he shot himself forward, grabbing the end of his chain as he passed it. Using his momentum, he was able to pull it free of its hold, giving him his best weapon again. He pushed Kella out of the way just as the assassin sent the knife toward her exposed neck, biting back pain as the blade sank into his arm. Blood gushed over the girl, but he could care less, choosing to swing his blade out toward the assassin. His torso was slashed open, but that wouldn't kill him. Two shuriken to the heart would, though.

It wasn't until the man's body slid to the ground and toppled to the side that Raizo even moved. Kella was staring at him with wide eyes, and he could almost _feel_ her heart rattling it was beating so hard and fast. He reached for the knife embedded in his arm.

"No, don't pull it-" Kella began just as he freed it from his appendage in one smooth motion. "-out."

"We must go." Raizo said, grabbing her by the wrist and hauling her to her feet. She was slow moving, distracted by the dead body in the corner. Raizo gave a more forceful tug, bringing her attention back to him as he wrenched the door open, pulling her through the hallway and into the stairwell. That's when those lights went out too.

Raizo shoved Kella to the side as two men dropped in front of him, immediately barraging him with knife attacks. These men were skilled as well, though not as good as the first. He deflected the attacks with his chain, looking for an opening whilst trying to keep himself in between the girl and the ninjas. One sent a flying roundhouse towards his head, which Raizo easily ducked under, sending his knife into the man's stomach. He jerked it back, causing the man's stomach to rip open. Raizo then turned his attention to the knife that was now being stabbed toward his neck. He was able to catch the man's forearm enough to redirect it, the knife simply slicing open the muscle of his back instead of delivering a death blow. He brought his chain and knife around with a mighty swing, sending the knife inbetween two of the man's ribs with lightening speed. It slid through his lung like butter, finally stopping halfway through the sternum - and the man's heart. It was then that Raizo could see Kella trying to make a run for it down the stairs. It was then the third man, freshly emerged from the shadows, caught her wrist, pulling her back. She swayed uncertainly, the only thing keeping her from tumbling down the stairs being the man's hold on her wrist. The problem was, his other hand quickly pulled out a knife, raising it and aiming for her heart. Raizo flung his chain out, liking the way it swirled around the man's wrist as it effectively grabbed hold. The other end was then wrapped around his neck, tightly. If the girl could see as well in the dark as well as Raizo could, she would have seen him holding the chain tightly as if it was a set of reins, making him seem like some perverse, macabre horseman as he crushed the life out of the man. In the assassin's last moment, he allowed himself a smirk, suddenly jerking the girl towards him before sending a blow into her chest, pushing her down the stairs. Kella attempted to turn and brace herself with an arm, but instead just landed awkwardly on the part of her arm just above the elbow. She let out a cry of pain as her shoulder joint ripped apart, but then tried to train her focus on sliding down the stairs and not breaking her neck. She ended up sliding down at an odd diagonal, trying to bend her body to be shaped like the mattresses her and her brothers used to ride down the stairs on. The stairs were carpeted, but that didn't mean she didn't feel every single bump as the corners slammed into her spine. She finally found the landing as she slammed her head into it, using every ounce of abdominal strength she had to allow her to land on her good shoulder blade instead of her neck.

When her motion finally stopped, she thought she would be able to catch her breath and take inventory of her various injuries. However, she soon sensed a presence standing above her, and then felt a hand on her arm. Without thinking the idea through, she pulled her leg back (not caring if she flashed the world) and sent her three and a half inch stiletto into the thigh of whoever was standing over her. The situation was far from amusing, but she couldn't help but smile and think that for once a tactic she learned from a movie actually worked.

"It's. Me." Raizo said gruffly, grabbing her heel and pulling the offensive piece out of his leg. "We must go." He reached for her (bad) arm to pull her up, the slightest movement causing stars to explode in front of her eyes and a loud curse to slip from her mouth. Raizo, not one to really ask questions, simply wrapped his hands around her ribs, hauling her to her feet as if she were just a toddler that had taken a tumble. He took her other hand, giving the arm an experimental tug and, after finding no more foul words, latched on and began to pull her down the stairs again. Kella was in a good deal of pain, but was too shocked at the turn of events to do anything but follow the mysterious guy. Her bad arm hung uselessly at her side, every swing it made from momentum making the joint scream out in pain. Before she knew it, he had pulled her into the cool French night, a slight breeze whispering through the trees. She idly wished that it had been this nice for Marissa's wedding.

"You can drive?" Raizo turned to her. He had phrased it like a question, but seemed to imply that she better know how to drive.

"Yes." she said, her voice very raspy and dry. She cleared her throat, noticing how out of breath she was. He pulled her over to a nearby black sedan, making quick work of the driver's side door. He was reaching for the engine cords underneath the steering wheel before Kella found her voice again.

"Wait!" she said, a little more helplessly than she would have liked. "I need you to reset my shoulder."

"What?" he said, looking thoroughly confused.

"Look, I'm not some freaky ninja guy, ok? I'm not tough enough to pop my shoulder back into socket and continue to kill people like it's nothing. I need you to reset it." she said, trying to put a little more confidence into her voice so that she didn't sound like a whiny little girl.

"No time." Raizo said, turning back to the engine.

"Oh, we're making time." she retorted, ignoring the pain her shoulder was feeling as she roughly pulled him by his forearm. He grudgingly obliged, getting out of the car and following her to the front of the sedan. She sat on the hood, cradling her bad arm with her good one. She positioned him right in front of her before laying back on the hood. Raizo gave her a pointed look, quirking one eyebrow ever so slightly.

"Oh for the love, _don't_ look at me like this is some bad romantic comedy moment. I _know_ it's awkward, ok?_ I don't care._ Now, put one hand on my elbow and one at my wrist." she said, directing him. He grabbed them quickly, trying to get this done. This motion jarred her shoulder, making her squeak in pain again. "_Gentle._ Now, pull my forearm up so it's at a ninety degree angle, then slowly rotate it in. After it can't rotate any further, slowly rotate it back outward until it pops back in. Go slowly, and do _not_ let my upper arm move, ok?"

He nodded his understanding, placing firm holds on her upper arm and forearm. He followed her instructions dutifully, rolling the arm inward, then slowly back out. He felt the muscles moving awkwardly, then tightening as he reached the end of the rotation. Kella tried her best to hold in any sound of pain, but couldn't help but let out a loud swear just as the humeral head rolled back into the joint. She immediately sat up, taking a few deep breaths as the last of the pain ebbed away. Raizo counted to ten in his head.

"Ready?" he asked, trying not to show his exasperation. She gave him a dark look.

"Yes." she said shortly, pushing off the car and following Raizo to the driver's side of the car. He quickly hotwired the vehicle before sliding over to the passenger's seat. She buckled up her seat belt, turning on the lights and checking over her shoulder for oncoming traffic.

"Caution is not our priority right now. Speed is." he said, his patience clearly waning. She shot him another dark look before pulling out on the street. She could feel how antsy he was, but would still only allow herself five over the speed limit. "Speed up."

"Sorry if I don't want to get pulled over in a foreign country." she snapped.

"That would be the least of your worries." Raizo responded. She let out a dry, humorless laugh.

"Thanks for the happy tidbit there, Skippy." she said, voice dripping in sarcasm. "Where am I even going?"

"Away." he responded, checking the sideview mirror. No one was on the street behind them.

"Please, be a little less specific with me. I might actually figure something out if you give me more details." she said lowly.

"You don't need to be concerned." he said, eyes not moving from the mirror.

"Oh yea, cause it's not like my life is in danger or anything." she said incredulously.

"Your attitude sucks. Turn right here." he said. She let out a sound of indignance, but followed his order subconsciously.

"Sorry if being attacked by effing ninjas and almost effing dying and teaming up with some random guy who is also apparently some mysterious ninja warrior isn't exactly a daily occurence for me!" she said, letting her voice rise in anger. She didn't normally like to give into her emotions, but today was something of a special occasion. Raizo didn't respond, but gestured to turn left. She saw a little bit of a grin on the man's face, though.

"Don't smirk at me like this is amusing!" she said, her voice at a lower volume but just as scathing in tone. "Do you know whose blood is on my dress? Cause I don't! I just know it isn't mine! That's disgusting." she follwed his directions, hoping he knew where they were going because she sure didn't.

"Done?" he asked, turning to face her for the first time since they had pulled away from the hotel.

"No! I-" she paused, realizing that she was, in fact, finished. Instead of giving him any satisfaction, however, she only let out a sigh of frustration and pounded the stearing wheel, ignoring the jolt of pain that shot through her shoulder.

"Good. Pull in here." he said, gesturing towards a line of clothing boutiques.

"Why are we stopping here?" she asked, following directions nonetheless.

"Get you new clothes." Raizo said, as if it were obvious. "Stay here, don't move. I'll be back momentarily."

"Don't you need my sizes?" she asked. He just quirked his eyebrow again, exiting the car without answering her. She rolled the window down. "Get me different shoes, please!" she whisper yelled at his retreating back. For some reason, she found herself a bit disappointed that he wasn't limping in the slightest.

As soon as the silence settled in, Kella immediately wished her random companion back. The full weight of the situation slipped into her heart, and she suddenly felt heavy with fear. She pressed her back against the car seat with as much force as she could muster, gripping the stearing wheel until her knuckles turned white. Her heart rate slowly increased as her anxiety arose. When Raizo opened his door a few minutes later, she let out a small squeal.

"You ok?" he asked, looking at her oddly as he put the new clothes in the back seat of the sedan.

"Not really, no." she said, but without the desired fire behind her tone.

"Just drive." he said, and while the order was unsympathetic, he said it in a slightly more gentle manner than he had been speaking to her with before. She nodded, turning back to the road. _Take one thing at a time_, she thought to herself. _Step one, drive to safety_.

They drove for a long time, long enough for the sun to eventually come peaking up over the horizon. Raizo directed her to the road that led out of the city, encouraging her until she was speeding down the highway. The French country side, which at any other time of her life would have been enjoyable, was only dark and terrifying outside her window as it rolled by. Somewhere around four in the morning, they crossed the French-German border. Kella thought for a moment that they might stop soon, but Raizo made no such gesture. He made her drive through the morning, finally pulling into Frankfurt somewhere around eleven in the morning. He directed her through the winding streets, and she followed his directions like a robot, taking no notice of where they were. They finally stopped at a tall townhouse positioned somewhere amongst the twisting back streets. Kella was able to open her door and place her feet on the concrete, but her body was so heavy with fatigue that she didn't believe that she could move. She stared at her heels - one of which was covered with blood - and faintly thought that, above all things right now, she would really like the offensive shoes to be off her feet. Raizo seemed to read her mind, pulling a knife out of no where and cutting them off, tossing them into his bag. He pulled her to her feet in the same manner as he had in the stairwell, half leading her and half carrying her up the stairs to the townhouse. Now that the adrenaline had fully worn off, Kella was able to feel every single pain in her body. Every part of her felt broken - she couldn't even think of how Raizo felt at the moment with his knife wounds. Raizo lifted a hand, quickly knocking on the green door in front of them. A silver haired man answered, his eyes going wide as he took in the two people in front of him.

"Raizo, what a - erm - pleasant surprise." he said in such a way that everyone there could tell that this surprise was far from pleasant. "I wasn't aware that you knew where I lived."

"Maslow, we need your help." Raizo responded.

* * *

Whew! That was exhausting! I do hope the fight scene went alright - it's my first time writing something as intense and artistic as a ninja fight, so I hope it was at least decent.

Drop me a line and let me know how you liked it! Also, if you want the soundtrack for this chapter, let me know!

-XM


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